If I Fell
by RedHandedJill44
Summary: "And he that gave light to the Force will cast a shadow and cover it in darkness. The son of Anakin Skywalker will follow in his father's footsteps. The blood of Vader runs in his veins - he cannot deny what is his true nature." Mara Jade is named Heir to the Empire, who follows a vision from the late Palpatine to find the Jedi Luke Skywalker. - Luke/Mara AU
1. Chapter 1

_Title: If I Fell  
Author: RedHandedJill44  
AU Luke/Mara, Han/Leia  
__Mara is named Heir to the Empire, who follows a vision from the deceased Emperor Palpatine to find Luke Skywalker. _

_I own nothing - George Lucas owns it all._

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******Prologue**

********_"Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny... Consume you it will."_

The Jedi Master's voice reverberated through the Jedi's head, as if the wizened old alien was trying to reach him from beyond the grave. He closed his eyes, trying to maintain control as the power of the Force danced just beyond his reach - as if it was waiting to be summoned. It was held at bay by sheer will, but he knew it was only for a moment. Once he felt just an inkling of peace he dared to open his eyes to look at the man before him. The man holding the green lightsaber.

His lightsaber.

With all the power of the Force, Luke knew he couldn't keep the anger out of his eyes. The man swung the lightsaber casually, smirking as the simple act brought on more animosity from the young man before him. Like a caged animal, he paced back and forth, his fingers twitching with pent up rage.

"Who would have thought?" the man asked, swinging the saber. "The infamous hero of the Rebellion, reduced to..." The man gestured with his free hand around the cell. "Reduced to all... _this_."

The Jedi's eyes narrowed, pausing only slightly as the insult registered in his ears.

The man watched as Luke seemed to judge the distance from his end of the cell to where his captor stood with the saber. He chuckled. "Look all you want, Jedi," the last word coming out as a sneer. "Even with all the powers of your legendary Force, you can't get out of here."

The man was telling the truth - Luke didn't need to reach out to the Force to confirm that. He could see it in his eyes.

"Besides..." the man holding the lightsaber swung it casually once again, his voice dropping to a level nearly inaudible. "We wouldn't want an excuse to hurt your girlfriend, now would we?"

Luke's blue eyes flashed with barely restrained anger. A calculating smile came across the man with the lightsaber. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to her, do we?" He came close to the captive Jedi, the green blade within inches of Luke's arm. "Could you live with yourself? Live with the knowledge that her suffering - her pain - was because of you? Was your fault that she-"

Suddenly, with a cry of rage more animal than man, the Jedi acted. Within the blink of an eye, he called out and the Force eagerly replied. Anyone looking on the holocams would see nothing, he knew. Only a blur as the seemingly helpless man suddenly regained control of his lightsaber and turned to face the other man. In that instant he knew bore a striking resemblance to his father, Vader, when all had been taken away from him and sacrificed. Before he was confined to the black suit. Within the blink of an eye Luke had pinned the other man to the wall, the lightsaber at his throat. The Force coursed through his muscles, no longer sore and stiff from weeks of imprisonment. The Force was once again his ally; it gave him strength - gave him power.

"Where is she?" he growled. The other man risked a glance from the green blade to look into the Jedi's eyes - and for the first time since being charged with the younger man's imprisonment, he was afraid: no longer did a Jedi stand before him. He glanced down at the blade as the young man pushed it closer to his throat. "Tell me." His voice was laced with anger, his blue eyes burning with a red fire.

Dimly, the man realized his breaths were becoming shorter and labored as an unseen power pressed down upon him. "Better off... than you are..." he struggled as the Jedi pushed him further into the durasteel wall.

At that realization, the young man faltered and his eyes lost some of their fire. The unseen pressure on the pinned man's chest alleviated. "Will you take me to her?" The Jedi's voice was cautiously hopeful, like a child asking for a bantha cub. Taking his opportunity, the pinned man elbowed the Jedi in the face, twisting out of the Force grab - reaching for the control panel on the door - only to find himself pinned to the wall once again. He reached into his back pocket, reaching for his blaster, but his fingers never touched its surface.

The Jedi stepped back from the body as the corpse sank to the floor, two precisely placed lightsaber marks on the torso and neck. He stumbled backward, startling himself as his back reached the opposite wall. He glanced down to his lightsaber, it's green blade still pulsing with life. He closed his eyes and listened to the raw power of the Force coursing through his body.

Throwing the weapon on the ground, Luke fell to the floor, unable to keep his eyes off the dead man's body. The weapon shut off within contact of the cortosis ore floor and the lacking hum of the saber left only deafening silence in the Jedi's ears. Reaching up with his gloved right hand, he covered his face and wept, his master's voice once again reaching his thoughts.

_"Control, control! You must learn control!"_

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_Please Review! It'll make the next chapter come out quicker ;)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Space is silent. _

_Regardless of what the holovids advertise, space is deathly quiet. Turbolasers do not groan as they are fired, starfighter engines do not roar as they veer toward battle, people do not scream as they die. Only the creeping cold of the lonely stars fills the void. Only the cold accompanies those who journey there._

_In the vacuum of space, there is no noise._

_There is only the light of distant stars and the darkness in the space between them._

* * *

**Chapter One**

**4 months prior.**

Mara Jade was no leader. She never desired the prestige of ruling, nor the challenges that came along with it. Although she had been surrounded by powerful leaders her entire life, and loyal to the Empire for the same duration, she saw enough of the corruption and difficulty to never desire that power for herself. She was a soldier. A follower. She knew how to lead troops to battle and inspire others, but to rule the galaxy was not her ambition. She was a tool. A Hand of the Empire. All her life she was able to hear Emperor's call from anywhere in the galaxy and obey. He had taken her in, taught her, took her under his wing and gave her the life she knew. He gave her the ability to be invisible - to walk within shadows, to travel the stars without a leash. He gave her the ability to make a difference.

For Mara, to desire the ruling position of the Emperor - her Master - was not a thought she dared to entertain. To think of taking his throne, of taking his life, was a thought that chilled her very soul. Loyalty coursed through every inch of her being - never would she turn on the Empire or its ruler. She couldn't. No. Ruling was not her ambition. And yet even she could not deny the irony that she found herself heir to the Empire, not to mention Commander in Chief of the Imperial Navy.

She sighed and resisted leaning against the railing around the command bridge. The crew of the _Dauntless_ moved about, sounding like a hive of insects as they set about their tasks. The Star Destroyer had just dropped out of hyperspace and the bridge was alive as communications officers were able to check the comms that had gone dark while in hyperspace. Technical engineers reported to senior officers on the status of various parts of the ship and tacticians consulted navigations officers on various battle strategies. Once again Mara resisted pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance at the action around her: the minute decisions to run a Star Destroyer were not something of particular interest. Instead, she remained standing tall and firm on the raised dais at the back of the bridge.

"Captain." At the sound of her voice, an elderly man stepped from a group of officers and made his way to the young woman.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Status report."

Captain Gilad Pellaeon quickly glanced over his command bridge, subtly motioning for the lieutenant, who swiftly brought over a data pad. "Everything seems to be in order, milady," he said, scrolling through the pad. "The ship is running well. The hyperdrive was expressing some distress while en route, but our engineers have checked it out and have fixed the problem."

"Scout reports?"

"They have been out for the past two hours, but have heard nothing from them to believe that the Rebellion is in this sector."

Mara nodded, brushing a strand of her red hair that had fallen out of her braid. "I want a full report upon their arrival, immediately after their debrief."

"Yes Commander."

She looked glanced at Pellaeon. "Anything else?"

Opening a file, the captain glanced up to the woman. "The _Doubtless_ has reported a communications blackout upon their return to real space. They request assistance and spare parts until they can reach a shipyard for full repairs and diagnostics."

Mara raised an eyebrow. "A communications blackout?"

The captain caught her amused smile at the corner of her mouth. A similar one appeared on his face. "They sent a private with the captain's TIE Interceptor to the nearest relay station to send out the message. We are the closest available."

"A private?"

"Apparently he's related to the captain. Distant blood and all that."

Mara shrugged. "Very trustworthy for the captain."

"Indeed." Pellaeon looked at the red headed woman. "How do you wish to proceed, Commander?"

She casually returned her gaze to the bridge. "Contact the _Assertor_ and see if they have the parts necessary for the _Doubtless_. If so, redirect them immediately to the _Doubtless' _aide." Without another look at the captain, she turned and made her way out of the bridge.

Pellaeon cautiously called out after her. "And what if they don't, Commander?"

Mara turned to the Pellaeon. "We will deal with such details only when they are necessary, Captain." The older man nodded sharply. "I want a response from the _Assertor_ and the report from the scouts before the next shift change."

Pellaeon quickly nodded and saluted as the red headed woman walked away, relaxing as the blast doors closed behind her. Though the woman was no Vader, she still placed the captain on edge. Her past was one shrouded in secrecy. When the Rebellion stuck the Empire a crucial blow with their destruction of the second Death Star, as well as the untimely deaths of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader, the fate of the Imperial sovereignty was suddenly thrown into chaos. Palpatine had placed no public notice on who was his successor, or had even given hints to where the line of succession should fall. Pellaeon was thankful he was nowhere near Coruscant at the time as every Moff, Grand Admiral, and Sector Governor loyal to the Empire were suddenly swarming down like dragon vultures to snap at the dying carcass, trying to claim succession or to steal a piece of the dying Empire away.

And then she appeared. Within a week this unknown woman was taking control, claiming right to rule in Palpatine's name and fighting off the hordes of frauds. Many claimed Mara to be a fraud herself, regardless of the will found in the Palace archives, until she received the backing of Ysanne Isard, the Director of Imperial Intelligence, a move which surprised many throughout the galaxy, as Pellaeon knew Isard was not one to resist a power play. Instead, Isard claimed to be honoring Palpatine's last wishes placing the unknown Mara Jade as his heir. Once the will was officialized, no one continued to openly dispute the line of succession. It was almost as if they were afraid the spirit of the Emperor would haunt them from beyond the grave if they dared to disagree, even after his death.

A grim smile came across the captain's lips as he recalled the piece of information that brought the heir to the Empire to be assigned to his ship. Although Mara was the official heir, at the pressure of the Moffs and the agreement of Isard, she was placed upon a thirteen month probation where she would be trained and prepared for her role as Empress. Constantly shuffled across the galaxy - from Bastion to Coruscant and everywhere in between - she took up the duties of Commander in Chief of the Navy, inspecting the Navy, learning its intricate details, though Pellaeon had to admit she was surprisingly educated in the details of the inner workings of the navy for a woman so young and without recorded naval service records. During those past six months, she was located on various ships across the fleet, though for a reason unknown to Pellaeon, she consistently returned to the _Dauntless_, making it her ship of preference. Isard was left as the interim guardian of the Empire, coaching Mara herself when she made her visits to the Core, visits which lasted from a few days to weeks on end.

Thirteen months was a short time to train a new Empress.

Pellaeon looked towards the closed blast doors. He did not envy the heir to the Empire. Each morning her updated schedule was transmitted promptly, every minute of her day planned to the detail.

No. Envy was not the emotion he felt. Curiosity perhaps. Pity at her political environment, maybe. But not envy. The desire to rule an Empire did not run in Pellaeon's veins.

And by some unknown prodding, he suspected that the Commander felt the same way.

oOo

"_Again."_

For the third time that afternoon, Mara Jade quelled the urge to shoot her dance instructor. Yasmyn Brintt, a wizened woman, who looked much younger than her eighty years, stomped her cane into the ground as the light air of a waltz played over the room's comm system.

"You are too stiff on your legs. Relax. Let your mind drift. _Flow _into the rhythm of the dance."

Mara gritted her teeth, clamping down a curse that tried to pass her lips. Thankfully for the older woman, Mara had left her weapons - both visible and concealed - in her bedroom, as she had yet to find a way to effectively carry them in the voluminous practice gowns.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Mara rested her arms on the shoulders of her partner - a recently graduated Academy student, who due to his father being a Moff, had little fear or worry of dancing. Assisting in the instruction of the heir to the Empire was a different matter altogether. Mara was sure she'd seen sweat break out on his brow in each of their meetings and he hadn't cracked a smile since being assigned as her dance partner.

Not that it bothered her. The young man's nerves were quickly overridden by a lifetime of etiquette and protocol, and Mara had to admit that despite his lack of personal interaction, he was a talented dancer.

"_Oomph..._"

Mara, on the other hand, was not. At least not with a partner. Give her the floor to herself and she could dance well enough to perform in front of the royalty of any star system - but with a partner? She had sent more dance partners to the infirmary for broken toes than she cared to remember.

"Lady Jade..." Madama Brintt's sighing voice rose above the waltz. "An Empress does not step on the toes of her partner."

"Yes, Madama." She looked to the Academy graduate who immediately averted his gaze and bowed his head.

"You do not need to apologize, milady," he stammered. "It is an honor to have my foot stepped on by you."

_Liar_.

Instead she kept the accusations to herself and merely smiled, though Mara knew the very act unnerved the poor man further, instead of offering reassurance. Promptly he shut his mouth and to the joy of the officer and Madama Brintt the rest of the two hour lesson went without any further injuries, much to the disappointment of the Heir.

With a deep bow, the officer was escorted out of her living quarters, the ever present Red Guard taking their posts outside her quarters, and for the first time that day, Mara Jade was able to steal some time to herself.

Corellian curses ran throughout her dressing room as she struggled with the intricate bindings and corsets of the practice gowns. When she lived on Coruscant, Ysanne Isard - the current guardian of the Imperial throne - made sure that what seemed like a battalion of handmaidens, ladies in waiting, aides, and housekeepers was always at her beck and call. Regardless of their actual numbers, Mara had developed no love for any of them and rather enjoyed evading them in their attempts to serve her. However, here on the _Dauntless_, where her company numbered one aide, a dance instructor, a naval educator, a political advisor, and her Red Guard, she tended to miss the attentive handmaidens who were much more apt at removing the formal regalia.

Finally free from the burdensome gown and dressed in her one of her black flightsuits, she strapped on her thigh holster, picked up her gun and headed towards the door. She glanced at the chrono and smiled when she saw that she had a few free hours before any further engagements. More than enough time for some sparring sessions and target practice for the Heir, and so with a rare smile on her face, she made her way through the cabin as something caught her eye.

It was small and mostly of no consequence to anyone: a smooth, metal cylinder with a few buttons and knobs - no other distinguishing markings. To anyone walking by it would seem insignificant, She reached out and took it in her hands, feeling the grip between her palms. Closing her eyes, she pressed the activator and the familiar hum of a lightsaber reached her ears.

Opening her green eyes, she saw the living room lit by the violet blade. Memories - perhaps visions of the past - seemed to flash before her eyes. Memories of a life before the death of the Emperor; before the fall of the Death Star II. Memories of a life lived in secret - the life of an assassin. Memories of a life long gone. Various lives, various personas she took on to ensure the success of her missions suddenly rose up from the depths of her memory. Targets, the faces of men whose lives were deemed forfeit, unwittingly came to her memory. Though the crystal was Alderaanian amethyst, it was a trick of the light that allowed the blade to resemble a line of blood - deep, rich, nearly red. A tingle went down her spine as the thought of the red blades in her Master's possession. A red blade, a tool of the Sith she served, the very man she was training to replace, hummed loudly in her ears, seemed to almost dance in the light. Perhaps in anticipation of being called into use once again.

A wave of unease rolled over Mara as the red lightsaber buzzed in her ears. Quickly she deactivated the weapon, the blade vanishing, the buzz stopping. Walking back into her dressing room, she unlocked her safe, shoving the lightsaber between stacks of documents and slamming the safe shut. With the Force, she jumbled the codes, quickly changing them and committing the new codes to memory.

Without a look back, she left her quarters and headed down to the training rooms, as always her silent Red Guards never too far behind.

oOo

"Mistress Leia, please, sit down. You haven't eaten anything all day."

"Come on, Goldenrod. You know pleading won't get you anywhere. You practically have to beg to get Her Highness to do anything that doesn't fit into her schedule." As if to back up the smuggler, the young senator from Alderaan hardly stopped moving about her office, except to glare at the protocol droid and to point a finger at Han. A gesture which Han Solo couldn't help but feel proud she picked up. "You've almost got that finger pointing down, sweetheart."

"I learned from the best." Leia Organa's voice rose from behind a stack of files on her desk. Han's face split into a half grin, but quickly fell as Leia's head popped over the stack of documents. "Too bad you were busy that day," she said with a wink.

"Very funny," he growled. "Chewie then?"

The princess of Alderaan shrugged innocently. "You're never gonna find out, flyboy." Sighing in resignation, she turned to C-3PO, who diligently had followed her in her flurry, and placed a hand on the droid's shoulder. "I will eat. I have a dinner appointment with my brother and he's more overprotective than you when it comes to me getting a decent meal."

If it was possible, the droid's face would have broken into a smile. "Oh you're seeing Master Luke! How wonderful! He is such a good brother, and was such a good master to both Artoo and I while we were under his care! Not that you aren't a good master, Miss Leia, not at all but..."

With a wave of her hand, the protocol droid shut up, once again silently following Leia around. "Just let me know when he arrives, Threepio."

"Oh yes! Yes, of course!" Happily, he moved into the receiving room, leaving Han and Leia with a few moments of peace.

"Smart," he commented dryly.

She smiled and bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Just don't tell him Luke will be arriving on the landing dock outside, and we could keep him away all afternoon."

A cocky grin spread across the smuggler's face as he pulled Leia into his lap. "From you at least," he sighed. "Eventually Metal-for-Brains will come back to look for you and I'll be stuck entertaining him until you return."

Leia chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "You know he does have an off switch."

"Yeah... But I can't help but feel guilty, shutting him up like that..."

"Han!" Leia sat up, an excited grin on her face. "Don't tell me you're getting soft."

Han's face hardened over as Leia tried to smother her grin. "No... its just that... I don't really..." Struggling to find his words, he quickly he pointed his finger at the princess. "Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone. I'll shut him off right now just to prove I would."

"Of course you would," she replied, kissing him again. Slowly she sat up, curling into Han's side, for once thankful she was so small to fit so easily in the chair.

"Now what has got you in such a frenzy?" Han asked, twisting a strand of her hair between his fingers. "This seems to be the first time you've sat down all day."

Rubbing her palm against her face, she sighed. "I know I've been crazy, Han... But, well I don't know..." She looked out to the windows, looking at the quiet world the Rebel Alliance had taken on as the capital of the New Republic. "I guess I had this grand idea of how once Palpatine was gone and the Empire running in shambles... I guess I thought it would have been easier. That everyone would have come running to us and embracing us with open arms, thanking them for removing the tyrannical oppression of the Empire." She caught Han's eyes in her own. "But it hasn't happened. We still struggle each day to gain systems from the Empire. The fact that we have set up a permanent capital here on Dantooine speaks to the optimism of the High Council, but we're still struggling... The Empire has held together better than we have hoped."

Han frowned, not taking his eyes off Leia. "Who do they have in Palpy's place?" Leia narrowed her eyes and Han simply shrugged. "He's dead - not gonna get me from beyond the grave for degrading his name. Besides, didn't Luke say he exploded or something?"

Leia shook off his question. "Intel says that no one has officially stepped up as Emperor, though not for lack of trying... Coruscant was a dangerous place six months ago." Catching Han's expression, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, more dangerous than usual."

He nodded in agreement. "Moffs going after each other isn't a pretty thought."

"And it wasn't just the Moffs. A few Admirals got in on the scavenging, and I heard rumors that Sector Governors tried to get a hold of their fleets to try and pull away from the Empire entirely."

"Well that could be good for us, right?"

"Ex-Imperial Sector Governors with Imperialist leanings and a small fleet of Star Destroyers at their disposal, trying to create their own sovereignty?"

"Point taken." Placing his arm around her, Han pulled her in close. "Then who's running the thing? Who's keeping it all together? Those Moffs should have torn it to shreds by now..."

Leia nodded. "That's what we were all expecting, but it seems that their Director of Intelligence has taken control for now, but she's only been described as 'interim' or 'guardian of the Empire', nothing that would lead us to think she's the new Empress."

"Then who is? The new Emperor I mean, assuming its not a woman... though I don't know why it would be..." Han caught Leia's glare and waved his free hand in protest. "What? Although there are women in the Empire - that Director of Intelligence being one of them, they're few and far between. Still tend to favor men over women - ow! I'm not agreeing with them!" He put on a show of pain as Leia refrained from smacking his arm again. "I'm not some princess's punching bag, Your Highness."

"Point taken," she growled. Gently she pushed herself up from the chair and straightened her dress, heading back to check the chrono her desk. "Let me know when Luke arrives, please."

Kicking up his heels and folding his hands behind his head, Han nodded and closed his eyes. "Will do sweetheart."

oOo

"Damm..." Huttese curses came from Luke Skywalker's mouth as the air traffic over Dantooine's capital city of Garang slowed to a standstill. He briefly wondered whether Jedi or not it was proper for Jedi to swear, but old habits died hard and neither Master Yoda, nor Ben Kenobi had mentioned anything against the practice.

Looking out of the cockpit of his X-wing, Luke sighed, briefly checking over his control panel. He smiled as a beep from R2-D2 came over his comm system. "No, Artoo, I don't think using the Rogue Squadron clearance code is a good idea." The little astromech's reply came onto the translation screen. "I know it would get us there faster, but I'm a civilian now. No more using military codes."

He looked out the cockpit window at the rolling plains miles beneath the fighter. He leaned back in the cockpit and closed his eyes, holding back a laugh as the droid twiddled in response. "I don't care how much you want to tell Threepio about that computer you met, the answer is still no." What could only be described as the equivalent of a sigh of defeat was Artoo's response.

"Don't worry," Luke replied. "This shouldn't take too long. Garang just isn't used to the air traffic that comes with being the capital of the New Republic." He settled back in the cockpit. "We'll just be patient."

Ten minutes later and Luke was already regretting saying that comment aloud. Artoo's loud, angry tweets echoed through the cockpit. "No Artoo! Do no call Leia! It's fine, it's fine. Its just traffic. Just be patient. Just be - hi... Leia."

"Luke!" Leia Organa's voice rang through the cockpit. "Luke where are you? Is everything alright?"

Luke smiled as her voice grew more laced with concern. "It's alright. Don't worry - there's just something up ahead that's messing with air traffic. It's been giving Artoo and I a delay." He frowned as a rude bleep came through the comm.

"Is it an accident?"

"Nah, not likely." Han Solo's voice joined Luke's sister's on the speaker. "Garang's just not used to the air traffic most likely - for your sakes I hope your reservations are reachable on foot."

"Artoo hopes so too."

"Quit blaming your troubles on that droid, kid." Luke smiled at the smuggler's rebuke.

"Luke, I'm transmitting a clearance code to Artoo right now." Leia's voice crackled over the comm, her transmission loading on his control panel.

"Level One Clearance?" Luke laughed into his comm. "Leia, this is higher clearance than what I have for the Rogues!"

"Missin' your brother there, eh sweetheart? Ow!" The comm crackled off for a second, Han's voice coming back in. "Just get here quick, Luke. She's resorting to violence." Luke could practically hear the wink in his friend's voice.

"What?! I am not resorting to violen-"

Abruptly the comm cut short, cut off by a twiddle from Artoo. Luke raised his eyebrows at his droid's daring. "You're on your way to a memory wipe with stuff like that." A rude twiddle from the astromech only confirmed what Luke already knew - he would never have the heart to take the personality away from the little machine who saved his life on so many occasions.

He sighed. "Don't worry, we'll be there shortly," he said updating the flight clearance. Luke glanced out of the cockpit, slowly maneuvering the X-wing out of the air traffic. Slowly she lifted up out of traffic pattern into the clear skies above. With the clearance code broadcasting, he turned his nose to the New Republic Parliament building and the closest thing he had to home.

oOo

"Milady, the reports you requested." The lieutenant promptly placed the data pad on the desk, before bowing, saluting and quickly retreating out the door.

A soft thank you came unbidden out of her mouth as Mara watched the young man out of the corner of her eye. Quietly she berated herself for giving him - a clear subordinate - any attention or compassion. It was not within her nature or her training to have such emotions; her Master had drilled that into her completely and Isard only confirmed his lessons. She was a Hand: her targets could know no mercy, no compassion. As Heir, she would lead, but by rationality and practicality alone. Emotion and fits of compassion had no place in her realm of politics. Those who showed such weaknesses were quickly fed upon by the vultures who waited in the Emperor's shadow for someone to be so foolish. The Moffs and Sector Governors preyed on such people. If Mara was going to keep the Empire in stability, she could have no weaknesses.

Ignoring the flare of surprise from the lieutenant as he heard her response, she continued to stand near her observation window until she heard the cabin doors shut. With the flick of her hand, the locks hissed into place. Closing her eyes, the young woman immersed herself in the Force, pushing away the feeling of remorse that stalked her private moments. The Force was a gift lost to her. She has lost more than a way of life and a leader when the Death Star burned. She lost a part of herself.

The Force, the mystical energy field that blessed a chosen few throughout the galaxy with it's gift, abandoned her. When the Death Star burned, she burned with it. Mara tightened her robe as she sat down next to the large observation window. Soft starlight streamed in, giving her red hair a blue sheen. She pulled her knees to her chest, closing her eyes again, once again reaching out the the small pinpoint of light that was the Force. Before the Force had been the light of the sun shining down upon her face: bright, revealing, warm, safe. Now it was a spark in the distance and she was surrounded by the darkness in the void. She could still touch it for simple tasks, such as locking doors and turning various knobs or switches. But moving physical objects - a task once so simple - was now beyond her reach.

A tear streamed down her freckled face. As if the Rebellion hadn't torn her life apart with their killing of Palpatine, it was as if they took one of her limbs as well.

Quietly she stood up and made her way to the desk where the reports were dropped off. Scanning them, she noted that Pellaeon made good on his word: compiled, drafted, and delivered within one hour of their return was the debrief of the scout teams, his own notes tacked to the front of the report.

_No Rebellion presence within the surrounding sectors, though there were reports of skirmishes between Imperial Loyalists and Rebel Instigators in neighboring systems. _

_Rumors also abound of new permanent Rebel base being located on Dantooine - 12 parsecs from current location. Do we wish to pursue?_

Mara fell back in her chair, pulling out her comlink. Looking at her chrono, she sighed. "One never sleeps on a Star Destroyer," she mused.

"Commander Jade to Captain Pellaeon."

Pellaeon's voice came through the comlink. "Yes, Commander?"

"Maintain current course and mark the log regarding Dantooine. Get in touch with Ubiqtorate and get eyes and ears on Dantooine. Keep an eye on them for now." She paused. "And disregard the political skirmishes. They are the responsibility of the Governors."

"And if the Governors refuse to deal with the situation?"

"Then it will be the Heir to the Empire, not the Commander in Chief that they will deal with."

"Yes, milady. Pellaeon out."

Mara looked down at the silent comlink in her hand. A half-smile came across her lips. There was a reason why the _Dauntless_ was her preferred Destroyer of choice: Pellaeon was her preferred captain. Professional, alert, excellent at his post - he earned his post, which was more than Mara could say about others. He was also very adept at reading his crew and officers, including one that was not his subordinate.

She set the comlink down and turned the datapad off. With her miniscule touch of the Force, she shut off the lights, making her way to her private bedroom. Shrugging off her robe, she climbed into bed, opening the observation window above her vanity, finding solace in the starlight.

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_Please review! I'd love feedback and I want to know what you think of where this is going!_


	3. Chapter 3

_I know its been forever, but here is chapter 2 of If I Fell  
Creation by good ol' George, but copyright is now in the hands of the Mouse._

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**One week later.**

For what seemed like the first time since his hibernation trance, Luke slept. The _Falcon_, on the other hand, was a ship that never truly rested. Even on standby, power generators hummed and various lights blinked in the darkness. Even Han didn't know the purpose for them all, but the never ending miles of shorting circuitry was what made the old freighter familiar - and a temporary home for the Jedi.

"Sleeping in the _Falcon, _eh kid?"

Luke rolled over on the bunk, blinking his eyes in confusion only to see Han standing over him with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "Good morning to you too..." he mumbled groggily, his eyesight adjusting to the light.

"Well, technically its the middle of the night, soo..." The older man smirked and pulled up a chair as Luke glared from the bunk. "Here, this'll help take the sleep away." He handed Luke a glass and poured.

"And if I wanted to sleep?"

Han shrugged. "Ehh, too bad. There'll be time for that later."

Luke chuckled and despite his body's cry for rest, he couldn't disagree. Since the end of the war and the destruction of the Death Star, sleep had become a much more available commodity for the entire fleet. The Rogue Squadron and other select fighter squadrons still flew patrols, keeping the word 'sleep' out of the fighter pilot dictionary, but since resigning his commission, Luke's own sleep cycles had evened out into something that generally resembled normal.

Leaning back he took a sip. "Can always trust a Corellian for good whiskey," he said with a tilt of his glass.

"Damn straight. Never met a Corellian who didn't know his drink. It's bred into us. Innate."

"Instinct?"

"Bingo." Han looked across at the younger man. Besides the grogginess that came with being woken in the middle of the night, dark circles lined the young Jedi's eyes. Though the young man rarely was ever rested in the years Han knew him, the distraught look that had haunted him for the past week was new. "Where the hell have you been the past six months?"

Luke looked up, briefly caught off guard. He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Everywhere... it seems."

"Really now? Rumor has it you've been planet skipping in the Outer Rim."

"And the Inner Rim and the Middle Rim."

Han let out a laugh. "Throw some Core world hopping in there too?"

"Coruscant, Kuat, Abregado-rae..."

The older man's face blanked before speaking. "That was sarcasm, kid. What in hell's name were you doing there?"

"Your guess is a good as mine," he sighed. "I needed a break to be honest. Just to get away from the Alliance... from the Rogues... from Ackbar giving me a General's commission and Mothma requesting holos for promotional purposes."

Luke caught Han's eye and grinned. "Your guess on that one is as good as mine - I just stopped asking questions at that point, and took off."

Han grimaced. "Wise. I've got a few 'The Rebellion wants YOU' holos with my face plastered across the galaxy, myself. Course I get paid for my likeness," he winked, "but that doesn't help with the attention you get with it. Both good and bad."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Having your face plastered across the galaxy after having a price on your head by Jabba and being on the Empire's Most Wanted list for the past 5 years doesn't garner _unwanted attention_?" He grinned.

"You're an tauntaun when you're tired, you know that?"

Luke raised his glass in a toast. "And I have you to thank for that, sir. Where else would a poor farmboy fresh off a desert planet like myself learn wit and sarcasm to compete with the Rebellion's finest?"

"You finished?"

The Jedi grinned sheepishly. "Think so. I'm sure the whiskey isn't helping either. Never been able to hold my own against it very well."

"Well we'll just make sure your sister doesn't find out and that you sleep it off before you see her." Han poured himself another glass and settled in his chair. "Speaking of Her Highness, what did you two talk the other night? Seemed once you two got chatting you couldn't shut up."

Luke shrugged, setting down the glass. Even though it had only been a week since his arrival, he and Leia had begun to meet over dinner. Not every night, but close enough. The first night had been the meeting of two siblings: catching up on each other's lives, reminiscing over old memories. Then slowly as the days went on, the topics descended into something more political in nature. "Seems like everything. Politics, for the most part. Her updating me on the present local climate and I was giving her a rough idea on the status of non-Alliance worlds, or I guess now they would be called non-New Republic worlds."

"So you _were _on a mission for the Council...?"

"More like an unintended favor to the family. I had unknowingly gathered information and she needed it." His voiced trailed off and for a moment Han saw a shadow pass over the Skywalker's face. For a moment the young Jedi looked less like the warrior and more like a world-weary traveler who had grown tired of the intricacies of life.

"Luke," Han set his drink down and leaned forward towards the younger man. "What were you really doing out there? You were gone for 6 months. No one heard anything from you since Bakura. What happened?"

The Jedi looked up and there was sadness in those blue eyes - a weary sadness. He sighed. "Life," he replied. It wasn't a lie, though it wasn't completely the truth. "I am the last of the Jedi. Yoda died a few weeks before Endor, Ben died years before that. I'm on my own and the while there had to be more Force sensitives out there besides Anakin Skywalker's progeny, I am the _last _Jedi... There are no others..."

"And that's why you left. You went searching for them, didn't you?"

"Not intentionally. I just... traveled. Just went where the Force led me." He grinned as Han rolled his eyes. "I know it sounds crazy, but there isn't another way to describe it, other than playing sabacc against your own nav computer. Which, now that I think about it, is something you're rather skilled in."

Han smiled innocently. "What can I say, I'm a lucky guy." He started to move to pick up his glass again, but stopped, fixing his eyes on Luke. "Did you find anyone?"

Luke looked away, his fingers twiddling with some wiring on the hull. "No... though I was able to discern several Force sensitives in the planets' major cities." He smiled slightly to himself. "Even despite the Empire's greatest attempts to eradicate the Force, it still finds a way."

"Like how many?"

"Thousands. People living everyday lives, yet they... I don't know. They use the Force without knowing it - it's a part of their lives. A specially gifted mechanic or healer; an animal handler who seems to speak with his herd - they use the Force without knowing. They stand out like stars in the night." The Jedi chuckled. "Yoda once mentioned that the Force was once described as a magnet - that Force users regardless of their training or affiliation are inexplicably drawn to one another."

"So will they come?"

"To what? To me, to train?" Luke shrugged. "Who knows... Eventually? I am not ready to train Jedi. Not yet."

"And when will you be, kid?" A layer of sarcasm rolled out of Han's mouth.

"When I have no other choice I guess," Luke laughed. "The Jedi Order will rise once again, but not now. Not yet."

Han nodded once, reaching to his glass once again. "Fair enough. If patience is your thing, then go for it." He took a sip, looking around pensively. "So you said you went to the Core?"

"Mhmm."

"Coruscant?"

Luke nodded. "For nearly a month."

"So is it true the Empire's new heir is a woman?"

Luke grinned. "I was wondering if you were going to bring that up. Leia mentioned something about your misogynist showing through."

"She said _what_?"

"Only kidding of course." Luke leaned in, a sly grin on his face. "Though you should be more careful with the likes of Leia and Mothma around you all the time. I don't think they'd take it lightly with your thoughts of women not being able to lead."

"I never said anything like that! Listen kid, I've been inside the Empire. I _was_ the Empire, remember? Four years at the Academy was more than enough time to learn that if women are a rarity in pilots, then the line of succession would be male - no questions. They've got the prejudices - not me." Luke grinned as Han's tirade wore down. "So is it a she who is set to inherit or not?"

The younger man nodded. "They call her the Emerald Heiress. Why on earth they decided that title is beyond me. She's set to inherit in seven standard months."

"You met her?!"

Luke let out a laugh. "Not if I wanted to live! That woman has layers of security surrounding her, you couldn't get a press conference without approval months in advance. They're keeping her under wraps for the time being, or so I'm told."

"And how do you know all this?"

"You set one foot down on any landing platform from the Mid Rim to Coruscant and you will hear about the Heiress. It's all they talk about. Apparently her arrival as heir didn't go over smoothly and the populace is rabid with gossip."

"Yeah, Leia mentioned something along those lines... Were you there before she was made official?"

"When the Moffs were swarming Coruscant? Nah, I was still on the Outer Rim, thankfully. As soon as I heard some rumors that the Navy was trying to split into support for different factions, I made sure to steer clear of Coruscant in case of a blood bath ."

"Smart."

"Learned from the best how to save my skin."

Han rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean you know how to stay out of trouble, kid. More often than not I'm the one called in to rescue you."

Luke chuckled. "Well, you do have the tendency to come charging in at the last minute."

"And its saved your life. Complaining doesn't grant you any more favors."

"I'm not complaining. Simply pointing out that you have a flair for the dramatics."

Han laughed. "Put the two of us together and you can make a damn opera."

"You said it." Luke drained the rest of his glass and let his eyes wander, glancing toward the hull of the _Falcon._ Even on the inside, the freighter bore the scars of war - blaster fire marked various walls. Each one of them associated with a memory - some nerf brained idea that inevitably went spiraling out of control, and yet they still managed to get out alive. She might not look like much, but the _Falcon_ was full of stories. Even though her spirit was young, she was an old ship and he knew that despite her owner's knack for getting her into trouble, she would benefit from a time of peace.

"Hey Luke..."

Luke looked up from his reverie, Han's voice breaking through his thoughts. The old smuggler looked at him with a nervous eye. Perplexed, Luke started to smile, but quickly faded as his friend shifted uneasily. For a second Han held Luke's gaze before looking around his old ship, sighing.

"You're not planning on sticking around, are you?"

It was not the first time that night that Luke was surprised by Han's question. Luke sighed, the surprise of the question wearing off and the reality of his answer coming in full force. "No," he replied softly. "No, I'm not."

Han nodded. "That's what I thought..." he murmured. He caught the look on the Jedi's face and grinned. "Just a hunch I had. And the fact that you've been here almost a week and you've done nothing to provide permanent accommodations for yourself. You haven't exactly been making a long lasting presence."

Luke shrugged, avoiding the question. "I'm used to sleeping in hangar bays... X-wing pilots don't get out much." He winked, though the grin that appeared at the jest quickly faded. "Does Leia know?"

"No. I figured that should be something you should tell her. That and the fact that I don't want to become a harbinger of bad news."

Luke looked at his hands. "Don't blame you..."

"How long are you planning on sticking around?"

He shrugged. "As long as I need to... As long as the Force lets me." He leaned back against the bulkheads. "My place isn't here Han. For now it might be, but I know I won't stay here. Not permanently. My place isn't with the Alliance anymore..."

"Yeah yeah, you've mentioned this before," Han interrupted with a smirk Though there hadn't been a reason to Luke's excuse, the smuggler knew better than to pry. "You're a Jedi and you have to go save the galaxy."

Luke grinned. "Something like that I guess. I'm glad you understand."

"Hey, 'understanding' is a loose word. You know I don't know anything about this Force, but I know it better than anyone on what its like to have a wandering itch. Sticking in one place doesn't feel right to me. Feels dangerous..."

Luke's smile broadened as Han's voice trailed off. "And what's keeping you around you old pirate?"

"You damn well know..." he growled, though it was more bark than bite. "Your sister is quite persuasive." He grinned as Luke's retort turned into a yawn. "Finally getting sleepy there, junior? You look like you just got hit with some rancor tranqs."

"About time. You woke me up, remember?"

"And wasn't it worth it?"

Luke couldn't disagree. "I'm still kicking you out now." He closed his eyes, fighting back another yawn.

"Hey this is my ship!"

"Not tonight." With a wink Luke closed his eyes and grinned as Han's weak protests grew louder. Even though the smuggler had already began moving to the door of his own accord, Luke couldn't resist giving him a little encouragement through the Force, pushing the older man out of the cabin. "Goodnight Han." A flick of his fingers and a tap to the Force shut the door and secured the lock, but he stood and reached out with his hand to turn off the lights.

Crawling back into the bunk, Luke shut his eyes and immersed himself in the Force. Slowly it came to him, responding gently when he called. Like a blanket it surrounded him, even with the darkness of the cabin he could see light. Like a river flowing over him, he let himself wander through its essence, drifting on it's current. Warm and cool, light and dark, parallel and perpendicular, the Force was alive with contradictions.

And yet in the river, there were still rapids.

One corner of the Force was dark, violent and turbulent. Like a nebula drawn inward to a black hole, it swallowed up all around it. Reaching out he could discern small schisms, all leading towards the nexus. Luke watched as it swirled, growing larger and stronger. He was an observer, watching from a distance - as if across the canyons of Tatooine. Helpless to do anything, except watch. As the turbulence grew, it was as if he could feel tremors in the Force. Tremors reached him, sending chills up his spine. Suddenly it spasmed - the event compressing to a point, stressed and strained beyond imagination, before shattering in a violent display of fear, anger and darkness.

Luke woke from the trance with a gasp, sweat covering his body. Shaking, he ran his hand through his hair, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he lay back down, unable to get the vision out of his mind. Somewhere the Force had shifted. Somewhere the dark side of the Force drew into itself - a black hole that swallowed all around it.

Somewhere the Force was crying.

* * *

Mara did not like to dream. She preferred reality. She preferred life where she could easily determine what was true and false. Dreams, on the other hand, seemed blurred in their line of reality. Visions as clear as day plagued her in the depths of night, tickling her reminiscent touch to the Force.

Sometimes in her dreams she was alone, tossed in a current no surface or bottom with nothing to grasp onto until she could no longer breathe, and she was thrown back into reality. Other times there was a man, hooded and cloaked, his voice causing her to tremble, though no words reached her ears. Always she was kneeling before the hooded man, never able to stand, never able to move, until the claustrophobia consumed her and she could no longer breathe - until she found herself waking screaming, bringing her guards running.

And then there was the man in black - the man with no face, dressed in all black. His was the most terrifying dream of all, for he did not make her fear. He made her want to trust - an emotion which had never proved faithful. Those dreams the man in black never did anything but sit, and watch, which unnerved her all the more. Those dreams she begged to wake up from, to hold her breath until she woke, but she never did. Never did her guards come running. The one dream that did not make her feel afraid terrified her more than any other.

She was glad she was not visited by him tonight. Immersed in sleep she found herself once again at the mercy of the hooded, wordless man. She expected to fear him, and relished the normalcy.

"_You have done well, child._"

Mara's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her chest and though she tried to snap her head to look at the hooded man, her body remained frozen in the grip of the dream. _Words. The hooded man couldn't speak. _

"Master."

The word came unbidden from her mouth - or perhaps she didn't speak at all - for though she heard her voice, her lips didn't move. Inside she was screaming. Inside she was terrified.

"_Rise, my servant._"

Slowly she felt her body move and finally her eyes made contact with the hooded face that had long since plagued her dreams. His ochre eyes smiled kindly, though Mara knew a tempestuous malevolence lay below the surface.

The vision of Palpatine swirled on the edge of reality - fragmented and untouchable - fading in and out of consciousness. The vision smiled and slowly stretched out a hand, reaching for her brow.

She attempted to close her eyes, but once again the dream forced them open, watching as the wrinkled hand drew closer, until it was swallowed up within itself - the vision fading with a shattering crack.

Her eyes opened. Her room was still. She reached out with the Force and felt the two guards standing beside her door. No cause for alarm pulsed through them - they were utterly at ease. Slowly she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Curling up into the bed, Mara pulled the sheets over her head - trying to block out the Emperor's words that echoed in her mind.

_Rise._

She pulled a pillow to her chest, trying to blot out the world, and in a very un-Empress like manner, she cried.

* * *

_Please review! I'd love to know what you think!_


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